I' m still thinking about his words， and they' ve changed my life. I' m reading more and dusting less. I' m sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing2 about the weeds in the garden. I' m spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible， life should be a pattern of experience to savor， not endure. I' m trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
I' m not "saving" anything； we use our good china and crystal for every special event—such as losing a pound， getting the sink unstopped， the first camellia3 blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous， I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I' m not saving my good perfume for special parties； clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends' .
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it' s worth seeing or hearing or doing， I want to see and hear and do it now. I' m not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn' t be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles4. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner， her favorite food. I' m guessing—I' ll never know.
It' s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with "someday". Angry because I hadn' t written certain letters that I intended to write — one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn' t tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.